


Handplates: Recollections

by CaitieLou



Series: Handplates: Into the Light [3]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alphys learns to lay down the law, Alternate Ending, Blood, Confession, Flowey - Freeform, Frisk - Freeform, Gaster Blasters, Gaster regrets his cleverness, Handplates, Hugs are given, Mistakes were made, Pacifist Frisk, Papyrus Needs A Hug, Papyrus is sadly familiar with the symptoms of shock, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, Sans Needs A Hug, Sans really that was pretty unfair, Violence, but I didn't shoot his majesty, more tags to come, no arguing in front of the kids, no training dummies were harmed in the making of this fic, nobody is happy with this, so is warm clothing, the human - Freeform, this is not the ending you are looking for
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-10-20 04:34:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10655022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaitieLou/pseuds/CaitieLou
Summary: This is a collection of standalone stories which occur after Sans and Papyrus are rescued from Gaster's lab and have their handplates removed.





	1. How to Win at Hide-and-Seek

**Author's Note:**

> Sans gets himself into a bad spot, and has to confess something he's been hiding from his brother. This story will be featured with 2 others in an upcoming video on my YouTube channel at youtube.com/caitielou. Think of this as an advanced viewing for the first story in the set. More will come after the first set of 3.
> 
> This is a continuation of a series of stories based on Zarla's "Handplates" AU. The start of this story can be found at the start of this series of works.

Well, Sans thought. This was embarrassing.

Sans knew he couldn’t keep this new power a secret forever, especially from Papyrus. But that wasn’t going to stop him from keeping the charade up for as long as possible. He had just...hoped it wouldn’t come out like _this._ Sans went over his options as he looked down at the floor from the high buttress that supported the corridor ceiling, wrapping his arms and legs tightly around the beam as he laid on his stomach. Option one, find a way to caper down without falling to his death. Option two, start yelling and hope somebody with easy access to a ladder heard him before Papyrus did. Or option three, try the new trick one last time.

Option one was out of the question. Once the buttress met the wall it was a sheer drop of at least 20 feet with no hand or footholds. Two was plausible, but the likelihood of Papyrus hearing him first was very high, and Sans’ fear hadn’t overtaken his pride just yet. And three...well that was tricky. He _could_ end up on the ground where he wanted. Or he could end up somewhere much worse. Like in the floor, or in a wall, or high up in the air without anything to grab onto.

Sans sighed. Maybe he shouldn’t have risked so much over a game of hide-and-seek. Still, this sucked. Just when he’d discovered a new power, something all his own, it had to go wrong. Papyrus was going to find out, and then worry enough about it to tell Dr. Alphys. And then she wouldn’t have a clue and would just run to _him_ to try to figure out what should be done about it.

He squinted at the ground beneath him, trying to get a feel for his surroundings. If he could gain an understanding of how far the floor was, that would help immensely. He did better in places he was familiar with, where he could recall the dimensions of the room with his eyes shut.

But the tile pattern beneath him was bright and confusing. White and black square tiles, laid out in a chessboard pattern below him, running the entire length of the corridor. Looking down at it from this height, it created a bizarre illusion that took away all appearance of depth. Having one functioning eye didn’t help, either. It was impossible for Sans to determine how far from the ground he was, and the longer he tried, the more his vertigo set in. At one point the floor seemed to buck and ripple, and he shuddered, gripping the beam tighter.

“ah, jeez,” he muttered, feeling sweat trail down his skull. Maybe getting Papyrus’ attention _wouldn't_ be so bad.

After a few more minutes (or perhaps hours?) Papyrus entered the hall, scanning the room with serious diligence.

“uh...hey, bro!” Sans called. Papyrus started and spun around, searching for the source of the noise. “up here, papyrus.”

Papyrus looked up, then gasped and put a hand over his mouth. Sans gave a little half hearted wave before quickly returning his grip to the beam. “BROTHER! HOW ON EARTH DID YOU GET UP THERE?! ARE YOU ALRIGHT?!”

Sans winced at the sound of his brother’s worry. It was even harder to bear than his anger. “long story...do you think you can help me down? maybe get a ladder or something?”

“O-OF COURSE! I’LL BE BACK IN A MOMENT WITH HELP. J-JUST STAY RIGHT WHERE YOU ARE! DON’T MOVE AN _INCH!”_

Sans chuckled dryly. “don’t worry bro, i’ll just be _hangin’ out_ here…” But Papyrus didn’t seem to hear him in his haste.

Papyrus reappeared with two flying monsters wearing the royal crest. Sans remembered they were called Whimsalots. Once they had Sans back on the ground, Papyrus tearfully scooped him into a sight embrace, both to comfort and support his shaking brother. “SANS, OH MY GOD I WAS SO WORRIED! HOW DID YOU EVEN GET UP THERE? HOW _LONG_ WERE YOU UP THERE?! YOU COULD HAVE DIED!”

“i-i know...it’s a long story, l-like i said, bro,” Sans panted. God he was so selfish. Why hadn't he thought of how this might affect Papyrus? “i’ll tell you in a bit, i promise. let's just...rest for a minute. i'm _bone_ tired, heh.”

In response to this, Papyrus hoisted his brother over his shoulder and swiftly marched down the corridor. “NONSENSE! WE MUST GET YOU CHECKED OUT BY A DOCTOR IMMEDIATELY! YOU’RE SWEATING AND SHAKY, POSSIBLY SUFFERING FROM SHOCK!”

“i'm not in shock. it’s just...look, i wanna explain to you what happened, but if you take me to a doctor then i won’t.”

Papyrus slowed his pace. “BROTHER…”

“bro, please. i’ll tell you everything, just...don't bring anyone else into it right now.”

Papyrus still didn't like it, but he conceded and returned to their rooms instead.

.

“so, um, it's like this…” Sans began. It was the fourth such start he’d attempted so far, and still wasn't any closer to actually beginning. He shifted, retreating further into the mountain of blankets Papyrus had wrapped him in to try and stop his shivering.

“BROTHER, JUST TELL ME. I CAN HANDLE IT,” Papyrus said.

“yeah...i know you can. i'm sorry.” Sans drew in a shaky breath, then let it out slowly. “not long after we got here, i...discovered something. something new i could do with...with my magic.”

Papyrus leaned closer. “SOMETHING NEW, LIKE A NEW POWER?”

Sans nodded, swallowing. God this was hard. Why was it so hard to tell this to his own brother? “yeah. so...if i just think about a place i wanna go, like across the room or something, and imagine i’m there, it sort of...it triggers somethin’ and i can just...appear there? i dunno, it's really hard to explain…”

“SO...YOU CAN GO SOMEWHERE ELSE, BUT WITHOUT WALKING?”

“yeah, that's it. like a...shortcut”

Papyrus crossed his arms. “IT FIGURES YOU WOULD COME UP WITH A WAY TO AVOID WALKING AROUND.” Sans let out a small laugh, despite himself. Papyrus peered at him sharply. “WAIT...IS _THIS_ HOW YOU’VE BEEN WINNING AT HIDE AND SEEK LATELY?”

“heheh, guilty as charged,” Sans shrugged. “i can't go very far though, just from one side of a room to the other. i _did_ go from one room to another room once...but i haven't done it again since. it felt like i got really close to getting stuck in the wall. b-but i’m getting better!” he added, seeing the look of horror on Papyrus’ face. “i think it has somethin’ to do with math. it got a lot easier when i started reading about physics and stuff.”

“I SEE…” Papyrus studied his brother. Sans shrunk further into the blankets. He should have told Papyrus about this sooner. He knew that. And Papyrus knew that, and knew that Sans knew that. He sighed. “BROTHER...I’M GLAD YOU TOLD ME, BUT WE REALLY SHOULD TELL DOCTOR ALPHYS ABOUT THIS.”

Sans looked away. “...fine. just as long as she doesn't tell _him_ about it.”

.

Dr. Alphys knocked on Gaster's office door. She knew he was busy with the Core problems, but it had taken much convincing to get Sans to approve of her consulting Gaster. She wasn't going to delay it a moment, lest he change his mind. The door opened and Gaster stood in the doorway. He was wearing his white button-down shirt today, with the sleeves rolled up and no lab coat.

_“Oh, hello Dr. Alphys. Is there something I can do for you?”_ his magic hands signed.

Thank god, he was in a good mood today. “Y-yes, actually, Dr. Gaster. I-I was wondering i-if you had some time to discuss something w-w-with me,” she stammered. “A-as long as you have the time, t-that is.”

Gaster stepped back and ushered Alphys in. _“Of course. Come in, please.”_

Alphys flipped through her notes as she searched for a place to begin. “T-thank you Dr. Gaster. I, uh...hope I’m not interrupting something?”

_“No, no. I could probably use a break from it, anyway. I was calculating tweaks for some of the machinery in the Core. It isn’t difficult so much as it is tedious.”_ As Alphys moved some papers off a chair to sit, Gaster walked to his coffee machine and poured a cup. _“Coffee?”_ he offered.

Alphys sat down and looked up to see what he was signing. “Oh, n-no thanks, I’m okay.”

Gaster shrugged and took a long pull from the mug, leaning back against his desk. _“So what is it you wanted to discuss?”_

“W-well, I was going through some of your writings on skeletons, a-and I wanted to know if there was anything else you knew about quantum physics a-and how they relate to certain aspects of skeleton magic. The chapter was a bit, um, s-sparse, and it’s been awhile since the latest edition came out...s-so I was wondering if any discoveries had been made since then…?”

Gaster considered her for a moment, then his brow rose. _“Alright, which one of them is teleporting?”_

“N-neither!” She shuffled her notes around some more. “B-but, I wanted to be prepared for any e-eventuality, s-so in case something happens or one of them has questions, I have s-someplace to start.”

Gaster’s eye narrowed. _“It would be much easier for me to give relevant advice if I knew which one—”_

“Dr. Gaster, with all due respect, it’s up to my discretion what information about them I give you.” Alphys met his eye. “If any at all.”

Gaster looked away first. _“Right, of course,”_ he signed, running a hand over his skull. _“It...isn’t my place to ask such questions. How much time do you have?”_

“A few hours, I-I cleared an afternoon block for this.”

_“Good.”_ Gaster walked to a corner of the room to retrieve a chalkboard mounted on an easel. _“Grab some paper, this will be...comprehensive.”_

Alphys shifted a blank piece paper to the top of her stack and nodded.

.

Two hours, four cups of coffee, and several sticks of chalk later, Gaster put the finishing touches on the last equation while Alphys frantically scribbled on her note paper. _“That's about it. Make sense?”_ he signed, setting the chalk down and dusting off his hands.

“I've got it. It's a bit abstract, but it all comes back to support the same practical concepts.”

Gaster nodded. _“Yes, exactly.”_ He straightened his glasses. _“If Sans has any trouble understanding, his books should fill in the gaps.”_

Alphys glanced up to see what he was signing, then looked absently back down at her notes, touching the tip of her pen to her lips. “No, this shouldn't be too much for him, I think.” She froze. Slowly her eyes moved back up to Gaster.

He coughed, looking away. _“Yes, well, let me know if anything changes. The ability can be a bit unpredictable as it's developing.”_

“Dr. Gaster—”

He held up a hand. _“I know, I'm sorry. I won't press the issue anymore.”_

Alphys’ brow furrowed. “Yes, I believe you’ve said enough.” She gathered her notes and stormed toward the door. “Thank you for your help, Dr. Gaster, I’ll let you know if I need anything else.”

Gaster winced at her tone. _“Alphys…”_

“Oh no, I understand completely,” she said, turning to face him at the threshold. “You’re only concerned about them, as any father would be, right?”

All emotion drained from Gaster’s face. His shoulders tensed. He stepped forward and gripped door tightly. _“Good day, Dr. Alphys,”_ he signed coldly. Alphys backed out into the hall, regret flickering across her features for a moment, before she gave a stiff nod. The door shut.

Gaster walked back to the chalkboard, wiping it clean with the eraser a little harder than necessary. Alphys simply didn’t understand. They couldn’t be regarded as a unit. Each one had his own unique strengths and weaknesses, and methods of approaching problems. What made sense to one could be completely lost on the other, and vice versa. He had only wanted to make sure he gave her the right recommendations. Her outburst had been low and uncalled for, highly inappropriate.

He slammed the eraser down and returned to his coffee maker. The pot was empty. He muttered a curse and began searching for his grounds and filters. He had only wanted to help. _Maybe_ he was a little curious, but there was a practical reason behind it. There was no harm in it.

...Well, maybe there _was_ some harm in tricking Alphys into divulging which one it was. Gaster had spent a long time rebuilding the trust between them since...that day. And now he’d betrayed that trust, in one moment of blind...curiosity. He sighed, weakly pressing the button to start the brew. He had brought this on himself. He was being selfish.

Watching the coffee drip into pot, he thought of Sans despite himself. It made sense the power would begin to manifest now. The skill was closely tied to one’s abilities with advanced spatial reasoning. It was the reason Gaster hadn’t taught them much math beyond the basics, even though Sans had shown great aptitude for it. God only knew what sort of trouble he might get himself into before he got the power under control. Gaster hoped Alphys’ newfound tenacity would continue to grow. She would need it in order to set some hard and fast rules so the child didn’t get himself stuck in a wall, or scattered across time and space.

The coffee finished brewing and Gaster poured himself a fresh cup. His eye fell to the pen and note paper on his desk. No, she was fine. It was nothing she couldn’t figure out on her own.

But...Sans was so _fragile._ One mistake could be the end of him.

Gaster blew on the steaming mug. No, now was not the time. Not after what just happened. It wasn’t his place.

...But, there was some key advice he could offer from his past experiences. Gaster hadn’t mentioned any of that in the lecture, and he hadn’t gone that in-depth in his books.

He reached for the pen.


	2. Lending a Helping Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The brothers get ready for their first trip to Snowdin, but Papyrus encounters a slight snag in the process.
> 
> I'm working on getting the video done by morning, and in order to serve as motivation I'm releasing yet another one early. Still holding off on the last story until it's out though. That one is...special. This summary will change when it's out.
> 
> UPDATE: I tried to finish the last of the recording, but my worst nightmare took place and I sat there talking to myself for nearly an hour without the recording actually going -_- So I'll try again in a few hours after editing the other parts but aslkasjdlakjsdf;alsdkjf it may not be out in the morning.

Papyrus pulled a purple and red scarf out of an old chest. “LOOK, BROTHER, THESE COLORS ARE EVEN BETTER!”

“i dunno, it’s still a little long i think. i’m fine with this one,” Sans replied, fumbling with the pale blue scarf haphazardly wrapped around his neck.

“ALRIGHT...WELL I’LL KEEP IT OVER HERE JUST IN CASE.” Papyrus set the scarf over the end of his brother’s bed, then went back to digging in the chest. They were sorting through some winter clothes brought to them by King Asgore, who was standing in their doorway watching in amusement. He was going to take them on a tour outside of the castle, to a far part of the Underground he called Snowdin. The king had told them it was cold there, even colder than Waterfall, and that they would have to wear heavier clothing.

Unable to stop himself from chuckling any longer, Asgore approached Sans. “Here, let me help you with that,” he said, kneeling down to untangle the child.

Sans’ voice came out a bit muffled as the layers of yarn were pulled over his face. “heh, thanks your majesty. guess i got a bit _wrapped up_ in the excitement.”

Papyrus let out a groan from inside the chest, and Asgore just laughed all the more.

“HONESTLY, BROTHER, THESE PUNS OF YOURS ARE GETTING OUT OF HAND...WAIT, WHAT ARE THESE?” Papyrus pulled a matching pair of small, cloth lumps from the chest, staring at them incredulously.

“Oh, those are gloves,” Asgore said. “Here, let me show you.” Papyrus handed the gloves to the king, and after looking at them Asgore turned to Sans. “Hold out a hand, Sans, if you don’t mind. These seem to be just your size.” Sans did so, and Asgore slipped the cloth over his hand. Each of Sans’ fingers fit perfectly in the glove. “They keep your hands warm. And you can pull these strings at the end to tighten them, since your wrists are thinner than most monsters. See?”

“yeah, pretty cool,” Sans said, apprehensively tugging at the strings. He looked over at Papyrus. “uh, bro?”

Asgore turned. Papyrus had found another pair already and was trying it on. He held his right hand in front of him, each finger of the glove standing tall, except the pinky. Silently, he pulled the glove off and put it on again, arranging his four fingers in a different way. This time, the fourth finger flopped over.

“it’s no biggie, bro, we’ll find a pair that works for you,” Sans said.

Papyrus started. He quickly pulled the glove off and tossed it back in the chest. “O-OH, NO IT’S FINE. I’LL...I’LL JUST NOT WEAR ANY.” He smiled weakly. “I’M SURE MY HANDS WILL BE JUST FINE! W-WITH FEWER FINGERS, THEY’RE BOUND TO GET LESS COLD, RIGHT?”

Sans’ head tilted, but he said nothing, slipping his hands into his coat pockets. As Papyrus made himself busy folding the garments that had already been tried on, Asgore stepped around him and reached into the chest. After digging for a moment, he said, “Hmm, I’ll be back in a moment. You boys stay here.” The king lumbered out of the room.

When the heavy footsteps padded out of earshot, Sans stepped close to Papyrus. “you know...it’s okay to feel bad about it.”

“HM? FEEL BAD ABOUT WHAT, BROTHER?” Papyrus didn’t look at him, dutifully folding and stacking clothes into tall piles as though he had been given a royal decree.

“your hand,” Sans said. “it’s okay to feel bad about your finger.” His brother continued to look down, fussing over a sweater he’d already folded twice.

“I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT,” Papyrus said shakily. “I DON’T FEEL BAD ABOUT IT. THERE’S NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT, I’M COMPLETELY—” Just then, the sleeve he was attempting to fold slid from his grip. Papyrus’ hand flew forward to catch it, but he overcorrected, knocking over another stack of clothes in the process. He froze, staring blankly at the mess.

Sans sighed. He stepped in front of Papyrus, blocking his view from the clothes on the floor. “...do you remember what you told me when my eye got broken?” he asked. Papyrus didn’t look at him. “you told me that i wasn’t any less even though it was broken. you said i was still me, and you were still my brother, and you’d always be there to glow for me.”

Sans took Papyrus by an arm and lit his left eye with a pale blue light, pulling Papyrus so close it reflected off both of their faces. It illuminated the tears starting to gather in his brother’s eye sockets. “it’s the same for you, bro,” Sans whispered. “you’re no less for missing a finger. and i’ll always be here to help you if it’s giving you trouble.”

A small noise came from Papyrus. He lunged forward and wrapped himself around Sans. Finally, he broke down. Heaving sobs wracked his whole body, tearing from his chest in violent waves. Sans shushed him, rubbing his back, allowing his brother’s tears to soak into his hood.

After several minutes, Papyrus was able to work coherent words in with the sobs. “I-I TRY SO HARD, BROTHER! I TRY NOT TO LET IT BOTHER ME. A-AND IT USUALLY DOESN’T! BUT S-SOMETIMES...I-I HAVE TROUBLE HOLDING A PENCIL, OR C-CARRYING STUFF. AND THE W-WAY SOME PEOPLE S-STARE…” He choked around another sob and gripped Sans even tighter. “I JUST WANT THEM TO LIKE ME! I W-WANT TO BE FRIENDS! I WANT TO BE...I J-JUST WANT…”

Sans started, and it was his turn to grip his brother tighter. “no, no don’t say that. you don’t need to be like them. you’re _you._ you’re papyrus. you’re smart, you’re you make awesome puzzles, you’re good at cooking. you never give up. you always…” Sans paused, feeling tears gathering in his eye sockets. He continued softly. “you’re better. you’re _great._ you’ve always been more than enough for me. that should be good enough for them.”

Papyrus’ breath hitched. “Y-YOU M-MEAN IT?” he asked around a hiccup.

“yeah. so don’t you ever forget it, ‘kay bro?”

Papyrus sniffed, and Sans felt him nod. “M-MY PUZZLES ARE PRETTY GOOD, AREN’T THEY?”

Sans’ smile grew. “yup. you _could_ try something new to shake it up, though. like a crossword.”

His brother broke the embrace immediately, giving Sans a stern look. “CROSSWORD?! BAH! SUCH SIMPLE PUZZLES ARE NOT EVEN WORTH MY TIME!” In a dramatic flair, he put a hand to his chin thoughtfully. Already his tears were gone. “IN FACT, I RECENTLY FOUND A NEW KIND OF WORD PUZZLE IN A MAGAZINE, IT WAS CALLED A ‘JUMBLE…’ VERY INTRIGUING, WOULDN’T YOU SAY, BROTHER?”

Sans chuckled, stuffing his hands back in his pockets. They were interrupted by a cough at the door. The king had returned.

“Sorry if I’m interrupting something, but I think I may have found just the thing for you, Papyrus.” He approached the young skeleton, and held out a couple of bright red woolen lumps.

Papyrus took them, looking from one to the other in confusion. “...OVEN MITTS?”

Asgore smiled. “Close, they’re mittens! They’re just like gloves, only they just have a thumb and one huge pocket for the rest of your fingers. Try them!”

Sans watched Papyrus slowly hold one mitten out, and carefully slip it over his left hand. He wiggled his fingers briefly, then slipped the other on. Holding both hands out in front of them, he wiggled all of his fingers together. Side by side, they looked and moved exactly the same. His eye lights began to sparkle.

“OH, YOUR MAJESTY, THEY’RE PERFECT! THANK YOU! THANK YOU SO MUCH!” Papyrus turned to Sans, waving his hands around in front of him. “BROTHER, LOOK! LOOK YOU CAN’T EVEN TELL WHICH FINGER IS MISSING!”

Sans grinned and nodded. “they look great, bro. see, i told you it was _snow_ problem.”

Papyrus groaned and threw one of the discarded gloves at his brother in outrage.

.

A little while later, they were at last ready to go to Snowdin. When they entered the corridor outside the boys’ suite, Papyrus ran ahead to address each and every monster in their path, showing them his incredible red mittens. Asgore grinned, not willing to put a damper on the child’s exuberance.

“hey, your majesty,” Sans said quietly, not taking his eyes off his brother. Asgore bent down to hear him better. “thanks. it means a lot.”

Asgore smiled, and patted Sans’ shoulder with a great paw. Together they walked down the hall, trying to catch up to Papyrus before he got too far out of sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the comments of Released Part 2, someone asked if Papyrus REALLY didn't care that he'd lost a finger. The answer is...mostly. He isn't exactly the melancholy type to linger on his problems, but sometimes a moment can take him by surprise and overtake him for a bit. It doesn't help that given who raised him, he's got a bit of a complex about pleasing others (on top of his own desires to conform and make friends). But he shakes it off pretty quick after some bracing words from Sans, that resilient little bean!


	3. True Pacifist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because Gaster does not get erased in this timeline, he would be around when the events of Undertale begin. This is how a true pacifist ending might look in that scenario.
> 
> ikindofknewthat here on Ao3 has been kind enough to translate this chapter into Korean! Check it out! And THANK YOU SO MUCH!
> 
> http://blog.naver.com/writeryoon55/221016831906

Gaster watches the human enter the far end of the corridor. They linger there for a moment, gazing around distantly, as though they think they’ve forgotten something. They haven’t seen him yet, though he guesses they already know something is there by the way they pause. Then they continue through the bands of light and shadow as they cross the bright, golden hall.

When they reach the center of the room and enter the light again, Gaster steps into the open, knowing the brightness would momentarily blind them. His simple ruse seems to work, because when the human reaches the next patch of shadow, they stop.

They see him at last. They gasp and step back.

Gaster idly wonders if this is truly the first time the human has seen him.

**“Let us begin,”** he says. Bones manifest around him. They try to jump—

 

—They stand firm in the pool of light and put a hand in front of their eyes, squinting at the figure before them.

His brow ticks up at their cool reaction. He suspects this is not the first time they’ve seen him.

 

**“Let us begin,”** he says. Bones manifest around him. They try to jump—

 

—They look up at his face well before their eyes could have adjusted.

Gaster’s eye narrows at the human. He is not one for dramatic entrances, but their reaction serves as yet more proof in support of his theory.

He wastes no time speaking before beginning his attack. They’ve heard it before anyway, and it’s best to end this quickly—

 

—Something in the human’s expression makes him pause. He’s seen that look before. Someone staring into the face of death, and refusing to back down—

 

—They step toward Gaster first. He attacks immediately, refusing to let them get the upper hand. Even with the slight advantage, the battle is frustrating. He won’t call it difficult, they aren’t even attacking him. Just running and dodging, as they’ve done since their journey through the Underground began. 

 

It’s as though they know where each attack is going to land, and where to be at just the right moment. Just as he predicted. No matter. It isn’t too long before they begin to hesitate, unsure of where to go. A few bones nick them, the blasters catch them by surprise—

 

—The human stands in the light and stares him down, determination glittering from narrowed eyes, half-hidden behind a mop of brown hair. Gaster’s hands shake. He wonders how many times he’s seen this face before him now, how many times his experience has been deleted and rewritten without his knowledge or control. If the human’s reactions are anything to go by, it’s many times now. He can almost  _ feel _ time warping around them, shifting and changing as the unnatural creature bends reality itself to their will. Abomination. He won’t stand for its existence one moment longer. There is no way he will let this creature reach Asgore. His friend has suffered enough at the hands of the humans.

.

The pause before the battle begins is getting longer. The human can almost ACT before the monster does, now. Something is weighing on the skeleton scientist, and each RESET makes it more pronounced. Gaster is hard to read, and never speaks in a way they can directly understand.

But each time, he says something different, something new. Adding information, posing riddles that tease at the back of their mind, even as he slows and begins to shake with exhaustion.  They're getting close to a breaking point.

Each new iteration makes them think of their friends, and the similar transformations they went through. Alphys and Undyne, whose trust and friendship they'd earned through hard work and forgiveness. Papyrus and Sans, who guided and protected them through most of the Underground, and had eventually trusted them with the secret of their past. The two had left the human on their own as they entered the Core, saying something about preparing a victory party. But they can't help but feel like the two are still with them, even now.

Gaster seems to be preparing his final attack. Here it comes. But what is—!

.

—The human meets Gaster’s gaze. Their SOUL blazes red in front of him, ready to battle, but he does not strike. They aren’t backing down, but he sees the look of dread in their eyes. His fists clench. What do they know that he doesn’t? His eye flashes yellow. He attacks.

The battle drags on and on, bringing Gaster beyond the point of exhaustion. The human continues to avoid his attacks effortlessly, with precision he knows has been hard won by the corruption of his timeline. The nerve of them, the absolute  _ nerve. _ The humans trapped them down here, entombed them in a prison intended to last until the end of time, and now they wouldn’t even allow Time itself to free them from this miserable existence. Humans simply had to have control of  _ everything. _ They couldn’t be happy knowing they were simply more powerful than all monsters. They wouldn’t be satisfied until every monster had been thrown before them, until they’d held the SOUL of every monster in their grasp and allowed it to live or die by their own hand—even if they had to break the laws of nature to do it.

Well. Two could play  _ that _ game.

Gaster’s chest heaved, sweat dripped freely down his skull. Every part of him shook. His attacks were losing form, striking the ground and walls around the human without coming close to their intended target. His battered SOUL thrummed in his chest, and for the first time he could  _ feel  _ the cracks in it. The cracks he himself had put there, for the same reason he’d cut the holes in his hands. Everything he has sacrificed, all the pain he has caused...it will not be for nothing. He will not allow this human to proceed another step.

Gaster holds his hand out in front of him, drawing on energy he knows he doesn’t have. He wreaths the human in a circular wall of bones, stopping them in their tracks. Then he summons a single blaster pointed straight at them. The cracks in his SOUL grow wider. He has never used bone and blaster magic together before, and this is why. Their combined power is far too taxing on a damaged SOUL, but he doesn’t care. This human will die here. No other monster will suffer by their hand, even if it means shattering himself in the process.

**“This...ends...NOW.”**

The blaster begins to charge. Gaster’s vision is blurring. A streak of red fabric flashes in the corner of his sight. He can’t look away now, can’t stop the attack. He knows he doesn’t have the strength to set this trap again.

“wait, pap—!”

He blinks. Someone in blue is in front of the human now, facing right, arm outstretched. What?! No, no, no—! Gaster pulls at the magic, desperately forcing it back into his SOUL. The sharp influx of raw magic feels like it’s burning him alive, but even as he struggles to dissipate the attack, he knows it won’t be enough. The blaster fires, and Gaster throws up an arm to shield his eye from the light. The blaster’s power is significantly reduced, but it’s still more than strong enough to cause fatal damage.

The attack only lasts a few seconds, but to Gaster it feels like an age. When the blaster finally depletes itself and vanishes, the room is left in a vacuum of light and sound. Gaster rubs at his one good eye, trying to clear the spots from his vision. Something is wrong. His SOUL is stable but something is...missing.

He squints at the figures in the pool of golden light in front of him. The human is still huddled in the bone cage, which he dared not dissipate yet. A bent figure is crouched low in front of them. Their back is turned to Gaster, but he cannot mistake the red scarf wrapped around their neck.

Papyrus.

Where?  _ Where _ did he come from? Why was he here?! The fool had said he was staying behind. He wasn’t supposed to be here. He  _ couldn’t  _ be here—

“...BROTHER?”

The word cuts through the air like a knife. It’s barely a whisper, yet seems to echo endlessly off the walls and windows.

And then Gaster sees it. Papyrus isn’t shielding the human. He is standing over a pile of dust, clutching a blue jacket with shaking hands.

.

Sans isn't even sure why he's there. It's done. He failed to protect them. He can't stop this. That psychopath is going to kill the human, and that’ll be the end of it—again and again. Oh well. In the end, it was just one more broken promise. 

He has to admit, it's kinda funny to watch him fight. Sans can almost understand his frustration. He had almost felt the same way when the human had tipped their hand. He had  _ almost _ felt...something.

Sans’ eye sockets go dark. Wouldn't it be funny if he lost, though? All those times he railed against humans, and he couldn’t even kill one that refused to fight back. But all those resets...the number is insane by this point.  _ Could  _ he best the human?

Hold on, is that…?

“wait, pap—!”

.

Gaster is on his hands and knees. He doesn’t remember falling. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. He didn’t kill the human, and instead he’s killed...the only…

Slowly his head rises. He has unconsciously dropped the bone cage, but the human remains by Papyrus’ side. They seem to be trying to comfort him. What is that sound? It’s like a saw being pulled over stone. Papyrus is crying, sobbing really, but that isn’t it. This sound is nearer.

Something drips onto the tiles below Gaster. It’s him. How strange. How could he be crying when he’s completely empty, when they’ve taken everything? When the humans have taken all he has  _ again _ . It’s unthinkable. How did he even have anything left to lose? Never enough. No matter how much he does, or how hard he tries, it is never enough.

He’s standing again. He’s walking toward them. Papyrus is still sobbing. The dust coats his gloves. It’s swirling in the air, the motes visible in the beams of light as it falls around them. The sight is sickeningly familiar.

He’s in range of them now. The human glances at Gaster an instant before he picks them up by their SOUL, holding them motionless in the air.

**“Reset,”** he demands. His voice is toneless, and surely drowned out by Papyrus’ wailing. But he knows the human will understand.

They shake their head. “I can’t,” a small voice whispers.

He slams them to the ground with a loud  _ crack, _ dropping their remaining HP by half. He holds them up again, a bright smear of red now staining floor below them.  **“I know what you can do. Reset.”**

They shake their head again.  _ Crack.  _ **“Reset, or I will make you.”**

“I...tried,” they choke. Tears wipe clean tracks through the blood pouring down their face. “Can’t...change—”  _ Crack. _

**“Then perhaps you need to try a little harder,”** Gaster replies coolly. **“It’s not as though you lack the opportunity to improve your strategy.”** _Crack._ **“It’s all up to you how long this lasts.”**

Something tries to break Gaster’s grip on the human’s SOUL, some other magic interfering with his own. He gasps, frustration and outrage shattering the spell of cold numbness which had seized him. His concentration wavers, and the human drifts gently downward. Their body comes to rest in Papyrus’ arms.

The young skeleton’s breathing is short and erratic, but he holds the human carefully and firmly.

**“Papyrus. They’re the only one who can fix this.”**

Papyrus clutches the human tighter, shaking his skull frantically. He’s still on his knees, back turned toward him. Gaster raises a hand. A circle of bones manifests pointing directly at Papyrus and the human.

**“I will hurt you if I must. You won’t remember it anyway.”**

“B-BUT YOU WILL, WON’T YOU?”

A chill rocks through Gaster’s bones. It’s as though his very marrow is turning to ice. It spreads through his limbs, crawls on his back. Gaster actually wonders if his own SOUL has turned blue for a moment. How could— When did—  _ Why  _ did—

**“There is no other way,”** he growls. It makes no sense. It makes absolutely no _sense._ He must have misheard. And even if he didn’t, the words Papyrus just uttered simply have no bearing on the situation at hand. All he does is spout nonsense. He’s so naive. He doesn’t understand anything. Gaster will just attack them both, kill the human, and it will all go back to the way it is supposed to be.

“IT DOESN’T MATTER IF YOU HURT ME, I’M STRONG. I’LL BE OKAY. BUT YOU…” Papyrus’ voice is hoarse and wet from crying. “YOU NEED TO STOP. I KNOW YOU CAN, JUST PLEASE...S-STOP  _ HURTING _ YOURSELF. I CAN...I CAN GL...I CAN GO ON FOR US. BUT PLEASE,  _ PLEASE  _ STOP.” Papyrus breaks down into hysterics again.

The human is still there,  _ right  _ there in his arms. One small hit and they’ll be forced to reset. The attack would likely graze Papyrus as well but he would be…

Gaster’s hand trembles, a simple gesture away from fixing this mess of a timeline, from…

From killing…

The bones flicker away one by one. Gaster’s hand falls. He stops.

Papyrus is right. He’s always been right. Right about Gaster, right about his brother. Right about  _ everything, _ from the very beginning; before he even knew the damn words to say it. And now it’s too late. There is no other way.

.

It isn’t fair. How can  _ this _ be the true ending? It’s all wrong. They didn’t kill anyone. They did everything right. But no matter what they do, it doesn’t change. They can go back to when they first met Sans and Papyrus to try and warn them, to make their two friends promise to let them face Asgore alone as they guide them through the Core. But it doesn’t make a difference. Nothing they do ever seems to make a difference. No phone call, no item, no attempt to reach out or change the pattern seems to be able to stop it.

They  _ can  _ go forward from here, but they don’t want to. Not without Sans. It isn’t  _ fair.  _ Why can’t he get out, too? Why doesn’t he get to see the sun? Why doesn’t Papyrus get to keep his brother? Or Sans, in the iterations where Sans isn’t fast enough to get Papyrus out of the way? Why doesn’t Gaster ever show himself until now, and why won’t he stop attacking until someone is dead? There has to be another path. There  _ has _ to be. They’ll find it. They’ll reset as many times as it takes. They’ll break something if they have to. They have not fought this hard for everything to end this way. They are determined.

.

It was fascinating, watching the old bag of bones fight. Almost as interesting as watching the smiley trash bag when he got mad enough. They were both deadly and efficient, using attacks that provided only the tiniest openings for their opponents to exploit. That they gave them an opening at all was beyond Flowey’s comprehension. If the ultimate goal was to kill the human, why even bother to give them that chance once they were done toying with them? Oh well. Watching the game play out meant he got to see the trashbag get dusted, which was deeply satisfying even as it happened again and again and again. And every time the human reset, over and over and over.

Clearly they were looking for another way out, a happy ending where they got to save everyone. Flowey wasn’t actually sure if there  _ was  _ another way out. It seemed like all the old bag of bones could do was hurt his “children,” even when he didn’t intend to. If it wasn’t one brother putting himself in the line of fire, then it was the other running up to save him in a rush of sweet, gullible idiocy. It was always the same. They would all come close, a fight would break out, and it would only end with tears and someone’s dust on the floor. It was like putting together a puzzle that had too many pieces. No matter how you tried to fit them together, one simply had to go.

The irony and stupidity of it was almost entertaining. The human had set out to not kill anyone, but that didn’t mean that nobody wouldn't  _ die  _ to achieve their happy little ending. But they would keep trying, oh yes. They were  _ so  _ determined to find a better way. The human would keep throwing their little temper tantrum all across time and space until they tired of trying and finally gave up.

Perhaps, Flowey mused, under other circumstances things  _ could _ turn out better. Or at least appear to. But not in this world. Not with these players and the weight of the history they shared. No. In this world, it truly was kill or be killed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought long and hard about this, but I just couldn't see Gaster showing mercy to a human ever again, under any circumstances. Not unless something drastic happened. At the time I wrote this, all I knew about his history was that at some point he'd shown mercy to humans, which resulted in the death of his kind. So now he's falling into that "there is only one choice" mindset that started all this in the first place. This is as happy as it gets in a world with Gaster, unfortunately.
> 
> The meta explanation for the human's actions is they really don't like this outcome and no walkthrough is giving them the answers they want, lol. They are considering hacking the game to make it work. Also they've got a wingdings translator pulled up so they know what Gaster is saying. Non-meta explanation for the wingdings is Sans and Papyrus teach the human to understand if they push them enough, lol.
> 
> I hope the format wasn't too difficult to read, I mostly had how it would sound in the video in mind when I wrote the time jumps. A HUGE thanks to Ctzha and SageoftheStars on DeviantART and morecoffeethanhuman on Tumblr for this for being my beta readers, your advice really helped this convey what I wanted and taught me stuff about writing <3 
> 
> There will be more stories to come, including a genocide run ending. Thanks for reading! You can find me on YouTube as CaitieLou or tumblr as caitielou-askew.


	4. I Shot the Serif

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans and Papyrus get a special lesson to learn some new attack magic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO I didn't meet my personal goal of getting a video done by this morning, so as punishment and to physically prove I am NOT dead, I am releasing this ahead of the video. It's been done for literally months now lol. I'll add the video link here when it's up. Hopefully getting SOMETHING creative released will finally pull me out of this slump. Enjoy! <3

Papyrus held his right arm up, four-fingered hand facing palm-out. “LIKE THIS?”

Gaster nodded,  _ “Yes, now keep your eye on the target as you build the energy. You need to remain focused from the start, or else the attack won’t manifest properly.” _

The scientist and the young skeleton were out in the Underground palace’s vast, yet at the moment empty, courtyard. Gaster held his hands behind his back sedately, while a set of translucent magic hands signed what he was saying behind to the king behind him. Asgore was present for the magic lesson, filling in the role of chaperone for Alphys. She had been unable to attend, apparently something unexpected had arisen with one of her latest projects and it needed her full attention. An irritated Sans stood next to the king, arms crossed, prepared to serve his usual role as head heckler of the Royal Scientist.

Papyrus closed his eyes, bones rattling with the strain of his effort. The air around the four seemed to change. It went still and unnaturally quiet, and then a low buzzing could be heard just on the edge of hearing. The buzzing rose to a whine, and then eventually a dull roar. Asgore made a sound of surprise, and Sans’ brow rose as he felt the force vibrate through his bones. Gaster stood motionless.

A light flickered in front of Papyrus, just once before fading again. _“That’s it, you’re close.”_ Gaster said. _“Keep your intent focused on manifesting a physical shell for your magic. Don’t worry about the form, your SOUL will take care of that.”_

Papyrus clenched his jaw, bringing his other arm out to brace the one he was holding up. The light sparked again, then flashed so bright it momentarily blinded all around. Papyrus yelped in surprise, but it was drowned out by the feral growl which echoed through the courtyard.

When the spots cleared from Gaster’s vision, he saw it. A spiked, beastial skull floated just feet in front of Papyrus. At a glance he knew it had been summoned correctly, and the magic within felt stable and well-contained.

He then looked at Papyrus. The child’s eyes were alight with wonder. His arm was still stretched out in front of him, but in a way which indicated he wanted to touch the manifestation.

Behind them, their audience of two cheered and clapped. Gaster started, having nearly forgotten they were there.

“Absolutely splendid! Good show!” Asgore called.

“whoa, that’s awesome, bro!” Sans said, sounding as excited as he ever managed to get.

Gaster made like he was clearing his throat.  _ “Ahem, yes. You seem to have the basic steps. Though next time you should try encapsulating a larger amount of energy. The blaster is properly formed, though it is rather...small.” _

And small it was. Puny, really. Not much larger than Papyrus’ own skull. Not to mention the outlandish eyeballs which bugged out of its sockets and swivelled around in every direction, but Gaster chose not to bring that up. Each blaster took on a few unique traits based on the SOUL of the user. The eyes...may be a permanent feature for his.

_“Disperse it and try again,”_ Gaster said.

The spell of wonderment which had taken hold of Papyrus broke. “AW, BUT DON’T I GET TO FIRE IT?” he whined. “YOU FIRED YOURS BEFORE!”

_“That wasn’t my first try. You aren’t ready for that yet,”_ Gaster responded firmly. _“Once you can manifest your blaster at a proper size, then we will practice firing. Disperse it, now.”_

“Come now, Gaster, what’s the harm in letting him give it a go?” Asgore cajoled.

Gaster turned, frowning at the king.  _ “Your majesty, you asked me to teach them to control these powers in the best way I saw fit. That is exactly what I am doing.” _

Asgore chuckled at him.  “Yes, but that doesn't mean they can't have a little fun! It's good for boys their age.” He tilted his head a bit.  “And yours, too.”

Gaster’s frown turned to a petulant glare, and he felt his face flush a little. As he turned back to his student, he caught a glimpse of Sans smirking at him.

Papyrus’ eye lights were twinkling brighter than ever. It gave him the appearance of a dog monster begging for pets. _“Very well.”_ Gaster grumbled. _“Take aim at the dummy. Focus the energy in the blaster to a fine point, then release it.”_

Papyrus put his arm out again, and the tiny blaster spun around twice before pointing at the dummy, making a small  _ raaaa  _ sound which might have sounded intimidating to a newborn mouse. The child focused with all his might; if he had a tongue it would surely have been sticking out. Soon the blaster began to vibrate, emitting a small buzzing sound which slowly grew louder and more high-pitched. Its jaws parted and a fist-sized ball of light gathered in its mouth.

Finally, the blaster’s eyes bugged out twice as large, and a beam of pure magical energy burst from its mouth with a slightly louder and more sustained  _ raaaaaaa! _

The attack lasted only a second, and did little more than singe the snout of the lifeless training dummy. But Papyrus threw a fist in the air and whooped with elation. The two behind him clapped and cheered again, and he grinned back at them before looking up at Gaster.

He was seeking praise, the glimmer in his eyes was unmistakable. But the scientist knew he could do better.  _ “Now that that's out of your system, disperse it. Summon it again, concentrating on a higher level of energy this time.” _

Papyrus’ expression fell for a moment, but his eyes came alight with the challenge and he nodded.

.

Nearly an hour later Papyrus had made impressive progress. His blaster had grown to be as long as he was tall, and Gaster was having to walk an inordinate distance down the courtyard to retrieve the dummy after each blast. Though Gaster didn’t mind chasing it down each time. Every step was more progress, and if anything the old skeleton moved a bit quicker with each turn.

At last, Gaster returned and took note of how sweaty and winded the child had become. _“That will do for today, I think,”_ he said.

“O...OKAY,” Papyrus panted, too wobbly and out of breath to manage anything more. He  _ must  _ have been tired if even  _ he _ wasn’t going to insist on one more round.

And then he did it again. Looked at Gaster with those eyes, seeking approval. Papyrus still had a long way to go before he reached his full potential. If he was given too much positive reinforcement now, Gaster feared it would cause his abilities to plateau sooner than projected.

But one glance at Asgore told him that withholding praise right now was not a wise choice.  _ “Your performance has been adequate so far, _ _ ” _ he began. Asgore crossed his arms. Gaster winced.  _ “...That is, you are doing well. Keep it up.” _

Papyrus emitted an undignified squeal, and bounced on his toes so violently he threatened to become airborne. Gaster rolled his eye, _“Now, you go back there and stay out of the way.”_  Then he turned to Sans. _“Alright, your turn. Come stand over here.”_

Sans groaned, looking up at the king. “do i  _ have _ to? i think i’m gettin kinda tired just watching my brother. not sure i got it in me today.”

Asgore knelt down and set a paw on Sans’ back, looking him in the eyes.  “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. But, I do think it would be good for you to try at least once.”

“good for me, or  _ him?” _

“Both. Now go, you’ll do fine.” Asgore gave Sans’ back a gentle tap, which was enough to jettison the fragile monster forward two whole steps. Sans was just about to turn around and give the king a churlish look when Papyrus stepped in front of him, putting a shaky hand on his shoulder.

“COME ON, BROTHER. I KNOW YOU CAN DO IT!” Up close Papyrus looked even worse. The sleeveless shirt he’d insisted on wearing for training was soaked with sweat, and his usually impeccable posture was slumped. But despite looking more exhausted than Sans had ever seen him, there was a sort of “glow” about his brother, though not in his eyes. He looked satisfied and proud. And...happy. Genuinely happy. That pain that always hid behind his eyes was gone, if just for a moment.

Sans rolled his eyes and moaned. “ugh. fine, okay. i’ll try.”

Papyrus grinned even wider and swept Sans into a sweaty embrace. Sans scrunched up his face. “heh, if you sweat any more, i’ll have to start calling you perspyrus.”

Papyrus groaned, ending the hug and crossing his arms. “WHY MUST YOU RUIN EVERY GREAT MOMENT WITH A PUN?!”

Sans closed one eye socket and tilted his head. “cause it’s fun, bro. i thought we were out here to have a  _ blast.” _

Papyrus groaned even louder and stamped his foot. “AAAAUGH! THAT’S IT! GO, I’M DONE WITH YOU.” He marched over to stand by the king where Sans had been before. Sans giggled quietly to himself, then shoved his hands in his pockets and went to stand beside Gaster.

_ “Are you ready, then?”  _ the taller skeleton asked.

Sans did not turn to face him. He faced straight forward at the training dummy. “sure, let’s get this over with. so what, i hold my hand out like this, right?” Sans removed his left hand from his pocket and held it out in front of him.

Gaster sighed.  _ “No. I must first awaken the ability in your SOUL, remember?” _

Sans grimaced, letting his hand drop. “aw, come on. you said we already know how to do it. can’t i just do it on my own?”

The scientist crossed his arms.  _ “So you  _ were _ listening to the lecture earlier. Good. You could potentially trigger it on your own one day, yes. But it would likely happen during a moment of extreme stress or fear. Not a time you want to be learning how to control new attacks.” _

“heh. if  _ that’s _ what triggers it, how come i didn’t blast you to smithereens a long time ago?” Sans asked sardonically.

Asgore rumbled the child’s name warningly, but Gaster waved him off.  _ “Your magical abilities weren’t mature enough. Now if you would face me, I will activate it.” _

Sans’ shoulders stiffened, but after a few moments he reluctantly turned. He glared at that single eye as Gaster squatted down in front of him, holding up his hand palm out. The hand flashed blue, and Sans felt his SOUL turn cold and heavy. He panicked, hands flying to his chest which now glowed blue beneath his hoodie. It had been so long since he’d felt blue magic, Sans had forgotten how helpless and vulnerable it made him feel. He tried to step backward, to get away from the scientist, but his feet slid uselessly in the dirt, unable to find purchase.

_“Stop that,”_ Gaster murmured, tightening his hold. _“I only need make a connection between our SOULs for a moment. It won’t hurt.”_ He frowned thoughtfully. _“It will be worse for me, actually. Now move your hands, just let me—”_

“Gaster, I said STOP.” Asgore’s roar was accompanied by a flash of orange on the edge of Gaster’s vision. He whipped his head around. He hadn’t noticed that the king had taken several steps toward them, his hands and eyes glowing a brilliant orange.  “Release him,”  the boss monster growled. Gaster dropped his hold, and Sans immediately tumbled backward, as though a rope he’d been pulling on was suddenly cut.

The child scrambled away on all fours, his left eye wide and flashing purple and yellow, never leaving Gaster.

“Sans, calm down, you’re alright,” Asgore said, slowly approaching him with one hand extended placatingly. Before he could get close, Papyrus shot passed him and knelt over Sans.

“BROTHER, BROTHER! IT’S OKAY! I’M HERE, YOU’RE SAFE, EVERYTHING IS OKAY!” Papyrus soothed, wrapping Sans in his arms. He’d stopped trying to back up and was inhaling in short, quick gasps, clutching his brother tightly. Papyrus continued to chant calming things as he rubbed Sans’ back, glowing his own eyes a soft orange.

After several moments, Sans’ eye lights returned to normal and found he found his words again. “thanks, bro. i-i think i’m good now.”

“ARE YOU SURE? YOU’RE STILL SHAKING A LOT…”

“yeah...just help me up, maybe?”

Papyrus took Sans by an arm and helped him stand, watching his movements carefully. Once he was on his feet without brother’s support, the two looked over at the adults. They were several yards away, and in the middle of a very heated discussion. Asgore was shouting and pointing one of his huge fingers directly at Gaster, which he periodically whipped toward the boys and back again without looking at them. Gaster was speaking and signing indignantly, barely even stopping to listen to the king.

The brothers watched with interest. The two men seemed to have forgotten they were even there. They knew they weren’t meant to hear this dispute, but it was hard  _ not  _ to. The king’s booming voice echoed all around the courtyard.

“...think before you do these things. You have to look at your actions from their point of view!”

_ “I  _ was,  _ and what I saw was that it had no such effect on the other.” _

“They aren’t the same, you know that! You know Sans doesn’t trust as easily as him.”

_ “I know, and I thought by demonstrating I wasn’t going to hurt him while holding him with blue magic—” _

“That isn’t how it works, Gaster!” Asgore stomped the ground so hard both boys felt it shudder.  “You don’t earn someone’s trust by cornering them and forcing them to obey!”

_ “Well what do you expect me to do?! If he won’t even let me do this, then I won’t be able to teach him anything!” _

“I expect you to  _ listen.  _ You may be teaching him, but you aren’t in charge. The moment he says stop, you stop. Am I clear?”

_ “But he didn’t—” _

“ENOUGH,” the king bellowed, so loudly that even Gaster winced and stopped signing. His eye flicked toward the boys for a moment, which prompted Asgore to do the same. The king sighed heavily and ran a paw down his face.  “That’s enough for today,” he said, at a much more reasonable volume.  “You boys can go. I need to speak with Dr. Gaster alone.”

Sans and Papyrus looked at each other, then back at Asgore. “nah, i’m good now,” Sans said. “it just...took me by surprise, that’s all.” He shot Gaster a nasty look. “you didn’t do that to my bro when you unlocked  _ his  _ power.”

Gaster adjusted his glasses. _“Your brother isn’t nearly as recalcitrant,”_ he muttered dryly.

Asgore put himself between them.  “Sans, I don’t think this is a good time. You’re both too worked up—”

“no, i mean it,” Sans interrupted. “i mean...i wanna do this, your majesty. i really do. i’m ready this time.”

The king gave Sans a weary look, then made eye contact with Papyrus for a moment. The brother gave him a small nod, and Asgore sighed yet again. “ Very well, then.” He turned to Gaster, who was looking a lot less hostile than he had a few moments ago. His hands were in his pockets, and his magic hands hung still at his sides. Asgore stepped close to him, forcing Gaster to crane his neck up to meet his eyes.  “Dr. Gaster. Do you think  _ you’re  _ ready this time?”

Gaster’s face was carefully blank.  _ “Yes, your majesty. If you will allow it.” _

The king nodded.  “Fine, then.” He motioned for Sans to join them.

Sans began walking forward, when he felt a tug on his arm. He looked back at Papyrus, who gave his arm a little squeeze. Sans smiled and set a hand on his brother’s, squeezing back. Papyrus returned the smile, then let go.

Once again Sans found himself standing in front of Gaster. The scientist knelt all the way down to his knees this time, while Asgore’s shadow lingered over them both.

_“I will not be using blue magic this time,”_ Gaster began. _“But you are going to have to hold completely still for this to work, do you understand?”_ Sans nodded. _“Alright.”_ Gaster held his hand up. Yellow tendrils of magic sprouted from the surface, flicking around the skeleton’s fingers, leaping across the hole in the center of his palm. Sans’ legs shivered with the impulse to step back, but he didn’t move. He hoped his bones wouldn’t begin to rattle.

_ “This will only take a few seconds...though time is relative so that may change for you. I will touch my hand to your chest. When I do that, your SOUL will respond. It will feel strange, but it will not hurt. It will also not be holding you in place.” _

“you said this would be worse for you,” Sans blurted. He didn’t want to drag this out, but that was something that had stuck out in his mind. A piece that didn’t quite fit.

Gaster grimaced. _“...Yes. Because I am initiating the connection, my SOUL will be the most...open.”_ He glanced up at Asgore, then gave Sans a stern look. _“Just try not to look at anything that isn’t yours. Are you ready?”_

Sans didn’t like how any of this sounded, and he felt anything but ready. He nodded.

Both agonizingly slowly and far too quickly, Gaster’s hand made contact with Sans’ chest.

.

His SOUL came alive with magic that felt distinctly like his, only...more.  _ Much _ more. The power was almost overwhelming. It felt as though if he let it overtake him, he’d lose himself completely. Sans took deep, calming breaths.  _ it’ll be over soon, it’ll be over soon, it’ll be over soon... _

**_Good, that’s it._ **

The intrusive thought almost broke Sans’ concentration completely. It was one thing for strange magic to be coursing through his SOUL, but it was another thing entirely for strange thoughts to be floating through his head. His eyes snapped open, which was surprising because he hadn’t remembered closing them. Everything was tinted with a haze of blue, and sparks of magic floated around the edge of his vision. He was vaguely aware that his left eye was surging with power, bright and strong.

Right in front of him he could see Gaster, whose head was bowed and good eye was shut. The magic swirling around him was yellow. But something wasn’t right. If Sans shifted his vision just a bit, everything seemed to go black, as though something were covering his eyes.

**_Close your eyes._** The voice in his head intoned. **_You’ll only disorient yourself._** It wasn’t a scolding, and nor was it an order. Just simple advice. Sans shut his eyes again. **_Now, I’m going to transfer a memory of mine into your SOUL. You can’t just let it go by or it won’t take. You have to completely accept it as your own. Ready?_**

Sans nodded, then recalled both of their eyes were shut.  _ yeah  _ he said in his mind, unsure how to make himself heard.

Apparently that did the trick, because immediately his thoughts were assailed with light, colors, sounds, and smells. Visions and sensations both familiar and totally strange to him. Trees and a forest clearing, smelling of pine and fallen leaves. Targets and dummies set up far away. The air moving and rustling in the trees, like the way it sometimes blew through the caves in Waterfall but so much  _ more. _ The ceiling above, which was bright blue and seemed to go on forever.

**_Don’t let it go by. Live it._ **

Suddenly his focus was shifted from the tactile to the abstract. Emotions both his own and not flitted through him. Anticipation. Fear. Excitement. A hunger to learn. A desire to please. A touch of frustration for how long it’d taken to get here.

And then, there was power. His (their?) perspective became locked, lined up perfectly with a target on the far end of the clearing. Though it was hard to tell exactly how far the target was.

Something was building around his SOUL, pulling magic from it like a taut string. Something familiar, something old and known, but at the same time completely new and his own. It was still his magic, it was just a new way to manifest it. Raw and formless it grew beside him, unchecked yet in control. A massive amount of energy built around him, and just when it felt as though it would burst in every direction, something snapped into place and the pull on his SOUL stopped.

Suddenly he was in shadow. A low growl rumbled above him, which he felt more than he heard. He’d done it, he’d done it! Something that might have been a voice behind him said something, and he nodded vigorously. Now to fire. Exerting the authority he instinctively knew he had over his creation, drew his arm back and thrust it forward, pointing directly at the target.

In a brief moment of awareness, Sans noticed that the hand held out in front of him had no hole in the palm.

**_Almost there, stay focused._ **

And then it fired. With a roar of magic and primal rage the blaster released the energy it had already been granted. There was no extra pull of magic from the caster’s SOUL, it already had all it needed. The target disappeared from view as the beam of light engulfed it. It was impossibly bright, but he knew better than to take his eye off his target. In mere moments it was done, and the blaster vanished as though it had never been there at all. The target was also gone.

Sans felt himself separating again, and the visions around him began to fade. Suddenly able to control his movements, he wheeled his vision around, trying to sharpen his senses to catch whatever else he could. He heard that voice behind him again, and he pursued it. He called out to the faceless figure, but they didn’t respond, nor did their words become any clearer. At last everything faded to black, and he was completely alone.

.

_ “...expected this, your majesty. His stamina has always been very low.” _

“WHEN WILL HE WAKE UP?”

_ “Any second now, it shouldn't have been that tiring for him.” _

Sans recognized the voices around him, and immediately they made sense. Gaster had been showing him how to use the magic blaster, and Papyrus had been nearby. The king was probably still there, too.

What he didn't understand was where his body was. He wasn't standing, and he felt like he was facing upward. But he wasn't on the ground, either. He seemed to be...floating?

He jerked. It was blue magic, he was holding him with blue magic again! “getoff!” Sans slurred, his eyes opening wide. His vision was blurry, all he could see was vague shapes hovering over him. He swatted at them blindly.

The force that was holding him adjusted to his flailing and gripped him tighter. He was being held prone, high enough to not feel the ground beneath him.

_ “Sans, be still. You fell unconscious after the memory transference. Do you remember?” _

“yes i do, now lemme go!”

_ “If I do, you will fall,”  _ Gaster said dryly.  _ “Stop moving and I’ll put you down.” _

“you said you wouldn’t use blue magic again!”

_ “I’m not.” _

Sans paused in his thrashing. As his sight continued to clear, Gaster’s face was the first to come into view, directly above him. Papyrus was just off to the side, looking very concerned, but allowing Gaster to take the lead.

Then he figured it out. Sans was in Gaster’s arms. One of his punctured hands supported the child’s head while the other was at his back, and the rest of his body was draped across scientist’s long forearm.

“oh.”

Gaster raised a brow.  _ “Quite. Do you think you can stand?” _ He slowly lowered Sans until the child felt his feet brush dirt.

“yeah, yeah,” Sans muttered. The hand supporting his head moved to his back, and he lept forward to get away from it. Unfortunately his balance hadn’t caught up with him, and Sans began to topple forward. Papyrus moved to help him, but Gaster got him first, catching him by his upper arm. “alright, i’ve got it, quit!” he snapped, slapping the hand away. Gaster let go, but he remained ready to catch him again.

“BROTHER, HOW DO YOU FEEL? DO YOU REMEMBER HOW TO DO IT?” Papyrus asked.

Sans paused to speak, but nothing came out.  _ Did  _ he remember? Suddenly he was drawing a blank on what exactly he saw.

_ “You may not be able to consciously remember it, but when the time comes you will,”  _ Gaster said.  _ “I believe the memory took just fine.” _

“memory...so that was  _ your  _ memory?”

Gaster’s face went blank.  _ “Yes.” _

“did...you see any of  _ my  _ memories?” Sans asked suspiciously.

Gaster huffed.  _ “No. It was entirely one-way, I assure you.” _

“You did very well, Sans. I’m proud of you.” Sans craned his neck up to see the king smiling high above them. Apparently he’d never left his spot from the moment it started.

They all went quiet for a moment. Sans became aware that everyone was looking at him, as though expecting him to lash out or keel over again. The attention made him itch. He just wanted to go back to his room and sleep.

“so...that’s it? i can do it now?” he asked.

_“Yes, I believe so,”_ Gaster said. He rose to his feet, wincing as his joints popped and creaked. _“If you feel up to trying, we can test it right now.”_

Suddenly, sleep was the last thing Sans wanted. He grinned. “yeah, i think i’m up for some target practice.”

.

Sans’ first attempt at a blaster was even weaker than Papyrus’, so small it could sit in his hand with room to spare. Its blast didn’t even reach the training dummy. Though as with his brother, with time and practice Sans’ blaster began to grow larger.

“WOWIE, I DON’T THINK I’VE EVER SEEN HIM...TRY SO HARD AT SOMETHING BEFORE,” Papyrus whispered to the king.

Asgore laughed softly.  “He’s always had it in him. I think he’s just never had the proper motivation.”

Papyrus nodded and watched Sans continue to summon and disperse his attack on Gaster’s command. Sweat was running down his skull and staining the back of his hoodie. Papyrus was certainly proud of his brother for giving it his all, but he worried he was going to push himself too far. And for the wrong reason.

Gaster was a rigorous taskmaster, barely allowing his charge to take more than a couple of breaths between summonings. He knew such a heavy hand was more likely to frustrate Sans than encourage him, but the little skeleton plugged on, much to his surprise. It was like he was out to prove something, though what Gaster was having trouble deciphering. He wondered if he was trying to outdo the blast he saw in the memory.

Well, that was very unlikely. Sans had taken multiple shots now, all never dealing more than one point of damage, if anything at all. Perhaps seeing how far his brother had gotten was motivating him? But Papyrus’ superior skills with magic had never made him react this way before. Whatever the reason, it was refreshing to see the boy trying to achieve his full potential for once. Gaster certainly wasn’t going to discourage it. He was curious to see exactly how far Sans would get before running out of steam.

A low growl from behind him snapped Gaster out of his reverie. He turned just in time to lock eyes with an enormous beastial skull. The jaws opened, light pooled between pointed teeth as long as his arms. Reflexively Gaster shielded his face and took a step back. The beam fired.

Sans watched with immense satisfaction as piercing light engulfed the scientist. He knew this was probably the last shot he had in him for today, and he knew it would get him into a  _ lot  _ of trouble. So he was going to make it worth every second. He kept his eye locked on his target and his arm fully extended the whole time, pouring every ounce of magic he had left to spare into the blast.

When the light faded, Sans blew out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. He inhaled raggedly as his eyes adjusted. Asgore and Papyrus were shouting somewhere out of view, but he ignored them.

Gaster still stood, and he did not look very worse for wear. He lowered his arms slightly, blinked, then brought them to his sides. He turned to Sans.

All the attack seemed to have done was blow some dirt onto Gaster’s clothes and knock his glasses slightly askew. Sans felt a little sting in his SOUL as he realized exactly how little he’d done.

Gaster rolled his eye. **“Your damage output needs work,”** he muttered, not bothering to sign it. He straightened his glasses and began brushing the dirt off his sweater.

Asgore ran up to them, apparently unsure whether to rebuke Sans or fuss over Gaster. He settled on both. Sans grinned sheepishly and stuffed his hands in his pockets, preparing to accept whatever punishment the king assigned him. Oh well. It was worth a shot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the blaster arc of handplates, Papyrus briefly mentions having been "given" the blaster attack, as though it wasn't a naturally occurring ability like their bones or blue magic. So I ran with that idea and came up with this scene, lol. Nothing like revisiting old memories and unlocking deadly abilities to bring a family closer together! This is probably very different from what Zarla had in mind for how the boys were given the blasters, but it worked for this scenario and I do love an excuse to put Gaster in a vulnerable situation.
> 
> Though the boys were rescued well before the blue magic "lesson" in this scenario, Sans still doesn't associate the feeling of it with anything good, especially when it's coming from Gaster. Though Gaster wasn't ACTUALLY trying to scare Sans, he legitimately needed him to hold still and thought it would be good for him to be exposed to blue magic that way. Kind of like giving an unruly kid a bath--they might pretend you're drowning them in acid, but in the end it's a good and harmless thing. Obviously Asgore disagreed in this case, lol. Different dad instincts at work. But his more tender instincts finally kicked in later when Sans passed out. AW LOOK HE DIDN'T LET HIS SON FALL ON HIS FACE. 10/10, Dad of the year right there. Actually that goes to Asgore, for being dad to all three of these babies at once. Maybe this sub-AU should be called Dadplates.
> 
> Alternate title: The first rule of fight club is shut up and do as I say.


End file.
